There's A Monster In My Bed
by Jetsir
Summary: It had been a tiring day of extra chores and avoiding a foul-tempered Russia. All Estonia wanted was some sleep. Russia had other plans. One-sided fem!RussiaxEstonia


**There's A Monster In My Bed**

**By Jetsir**

Estonia sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly as he practically dragged himself through the halls of Russia's house.

'_Just get to your room, Eduard_,' he told himself, slowly making his way up a flight of stairs towards where his as well as the other Baltics' rooms were located.

It had been a long day.

That morning, after being away for three, blissful days, the woman of the house, Russia had returned, and she had not been in a good mood. The day had passed as some sort of twisted game of hide and seek; the Baltics played the part of hider to Russia and her shovel's seeker, and if Lithuania and Latvia's cuts and bruises had anything to show for it, losing the game had terrible, terrible consequences.

Estonia found that he didn't have to hide as much as the others, with Lithuania being Russia's "favorite" and Latvia's quaking and cowering a source of great amusement to the house's mistress, the third Baltic Brother always seemed to fade into the background where Russia was concerned. Not that he was complaining about it. Not at all.

The blond man had spent the entire day picking up the pieces that the Russian woman's angry outbursts left behind. He'd tended to his brothers' wounds, cleaned the blood and debris off the floor, and then took care of their chores for the day as well as his own when it was clear that they were to battered to properly carry them out on their own. He'd only had one run-in with Russia, and it had been later in the day, when whatever that was bothering her had seemed to have winded down. She'd thrown him into a wall and then went on her way without a backwards glance.

Now, at barely eight o' clock in the evening, with all of the dishes scrubbed, the floors swept, and every inch of the house all in order, Estonia was ready to collapse onto his bed and sleep like the dead until morning. Being in a constant state of fear for an entire day along with taking on the duties of his brothers had exhausted him thoroughly and he nearly cried out in joy when he saw his bedroom door just within reach.

Entering his room and closing the door behind him, Estonia stopped to cover a large yawn with his hand. He didn't even notice that the lamp on his night table had been turned on and that he wasn't the only person occupying the room until a voice spoke up.

"Tired, Eduard?"

His blood ran cold.

"M-miss Russia!" he exclaimed, his eyes locking onto the form sitting on his bed. The woman sat cross-legged, propped up against his pillows, and was dressed in a floor-length, frilly night gown that looked more suitable for a young girl, not the terrifying, personified nation currently wearing it. Estonia gulped, "do you…do you need anything?"

She giggled, and the sound was sweet, like sugar. Sugar laced with cyanide. She extended her arms out to him in a gesture that should've been inviting, but came off as a stern command that promised punishment if he did not obey.

She wanted him to sit with her, in her arms. He felt sick with fear. He had no idea what kind of state the woman was in or what she wanted from him. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to take his chances and flee the room, but he knew at his core that the punishment for running would be far more severe than if he just followed her orders. At least, he hoped that would be the case.

Feeling as if his feet were made of lead, the man crossed the room. Once he reached the bed, he carefully toed off his shoes and eased himself onto the mattress. On his knees, he carefully made his way over to Russia, noting immediately with concern the strong stench of vodka. Once he was in her reach, the woman grabbed him, sat him on her lap and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

They sat there in, for Estonia, at least, a tense silence for what seemed like an eternity. From his position, with his head tucked beneath the taller nation's chin, Estonia could not see Russia's face, and therefore could not get an idea of what the woman was thinking, not that he had a good idea what she was thinking at any other time. So he waited for something, _anything_ to happen, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he got his wish and Russia threaded a hand through his hair, beginning to stroke it.

"You have lovely hair, Eduard," she cooed, fingering the short locks in a leisurely manner, "Toris' is much too long and Raivis' is such a mess all the time, but yours, it is just perfect."

"Ah…th-thank you, Miss Russia," he had no idea where this was going, and while the caress was gentle, he knew it wouldn't stay that way for long, not with Russia.

She hummed in reply and continued with her ministrations in silence. After a couple of minutes, she spoke up once more, "I've been neglecting you lately, Eduard. I'm sorry, dear. You must've been lonely all by yourself while I showed your brothers so much attention. You must've been so jealous."

Estonia tensed, not knowing what to say. If he agreed with her, she may focus more of her "attention" on him, but if he disagreed, that could spell trouble for his brothers, and it would make it seem as though he had no qualms with how they were treated so long as he remained unharmed, "w-well, I-"

He was interrupted by another one of Russia's childish giggles, "you are so cute, Eduard!" she pulled drew away from him slightly so that she could get a better look at him and reached up to give him a rough pinch on the cheek, "stuttering like little Raivis… simply adorable!"

He winced; no doubt a bruise would form on his cheek later on. Now that he could see Russia's face, his concern for his well being increased. Russia had her trademark grin on her face, but her eyes… her eyes glinted with more than a little malicious intent and there was something else in her eyes that he couldn't interpret, and he didn't know what that meant for him.

"Tell me Eduard…" she traced a finger down his cheek in an almost motherly fashion, "do you love me?"

He froze at the random, but very crucial question. How could he answer that? Not with the truth, of course. No, he did not love Russia. He feared, resented, and, in a way, respected the woman, but he definitely didn't love her. But to tell her that would surely send her into a rage and him into a world of pain. So, with a shaky breath, he replied, "I…y-yes."

Her smile grew and her eyes became a little out of focus. Her hand shot up, fisting itself into his hair and jerked his head back as he let out a cry of pain. She leaned in close to his ear, "_liar_," she hissed.

They stayed like that, Estonia still in Russia's lap, his neck bent back at an uncomfortable, the woman's hand still painfully gripping his hair. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the sounds of Estonia's accelerated breathing.

Then, Russia released her hold on his hair, but before he could even tilt his head forward into a more comfortable position, Estonia found himself on his back, pinned down beneath Russia's stronger, larger frame. Her long hair cascaded down, creating a curtain around his head and cutting off all other things in his awareness except for her.

He was trapped.

Russia spoke quietly, her smile never leaving her face, "you are very selfish, Eduard. I allow you to stay in my home, I give you my food and my protection, and this is how you repay me? By being a bad, disobedient, lying little boy? That hurts, little Eduard."

For a moment, he struggled. He attempted to remove his arms from her grasp and throw her off of him. She didn't even budge. Her grip tightened on him until it hurt and he hissed in pain.

"One shouldn't lie about love, my dear Eduard," she scolded, as if chastising a child about eating sweets before dinner, "but I wonder…if your words will lie about your feelings for me, will the rest of you lie as well?"

He wasn't even able to contemplate the question before Russia crushed his lips with hers. Estonia let out a muffled yell of protest as Russia kissed him with enough force to bruise his lips. Her tongue entered his mouth and she explored and tasted him while the weight of her body combined with his fear and surprise kept him still. As she ended the forced kiss, she bit into his bottom lip, drawing blood, before drawing away completely to hover over him.

She examined his face as he looked up at her with wide, terrified eyes and smiled, "I guess not," and oddly enough, she sounded almost sad.

Leaning down again, she placed a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek, right over the spot she'd pinched earlier. Then, she released him, rolling off of him and rising from the bed. Estonia sat up and stared at her, wondering what had just happened.

Russia turned off Estonia's lamp and crossed the room, opening the door to his bedroom, "don't say things you don't mean. Goodnight, Eduard."

She left, closing the door behind her with a soft click and leaving Estonia to sit in the dark.

He took a deep, shaky breath and fell back onto his pillows. He reached up to wipe the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and adjusted his glasses. For a while he laid there, staring at the ceiling and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

All he'd wanted was to go to his room and get a good night's sleep. Now he doubted that he'd get any sleep at all.

_End._

**A/N:** _One day, I'll be known as "That one ficthor that writes all the hetero Hetalia stories." Honestly, all my Hetalia fics involve a GB'd nation-tan one way or another… I need to write some pure boy love action one of these days…_

_Trying to be darker and edgier again, not sure how it turned out. Honestly I just wrote it to have fem!Russia in a frilly nightgown (which I think oddly suits her…in a twisted way). Yes, the title's a lyric from a Lady Gaga song, though that's the extent of the song's inspiration. As for Miss Russia, I picture her as almost as tall as Mr. Russia but with twice as much visciousness._

_Also, I love this ship…well, it's not really a ship, more like a rowboat being challenged by a battleship with only a broken oar and a tackle box to defend itself. Why isn't there more RussEst around here? Honestly, I read through all the good ones in, like, two hours (keep in mind that a lot of them were the good ones, it wasn't a two out of every twenty deal). Maybe that'll be my first project for the New Year…getting more RussEst up in this joint…_

_My last fic for 2011, it's been fun guys, but now it's time to prepare for the end of the world! XD_

_Later, baybays!_


End file.
